340. You Will Find a Job

A pep talk for the jobless, the underemployed, the frustrated on LinkedIn among us.

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

I’m Leslie Cohn and It’s Going to be OK… You will find a paying job.

Finding a job is tough. The landscape of how this is done is tremendously different from when I started working, which is a long time ago. It was a time when it was possible for a 12 year old to lie about her age to gain employment as a junior day camp counselor at a JCC as well as work the counter at a Dairy Queen and not be found out immediately.

After moving to Los Angeles as a legal adult, I worked at a pet hospital as a receptionist and then climbed into a handful of staff positions in the film industry.

I once sent underwear to a director while they were filming in the UK. On the customs form I wrote “documents” because I didn’t want any hold up. In all fairness, they were briefs.

I worked freelance for years in commercial production and pretty much do not want to return. The hours are brutal on your body, mind, and spirit – The industry isn’t what it once was, and neither am I.

That said, there were so many adventures and cool beings and stories and work problems that I solved both quickly and efficiently.

I’ve worked in remote locations when the craft service department didn’t bring enough water or snacks. When I politely brought this to their attention, they clapped and rubbed their hands together and told me the crew just needed a little bit of love and magic. I told them they had per diem for the love part so the magic would be water and trail mix. This person never took the hint or direct request so a Production Assistant and I went into town and did the shopping ourselves.

One Saturday night on the way to San Luis Obispo for a Sunday morning shoot, our truck driver with all the film and equipment was pulled over and arrested on a DUI.

The CHP called me and gave me only 30 minutes to retrieve the truck from a remote highway roadside. Right on!

I still take pride the crew nicknamed me “The Wolf” after Harvey Keitel’s character in Pulp Fiction. Keep your head. Get it done. We’ve got some cars to film!

About 14 months after my husband died, I landed a job as a coordinator for a very cool company and held it throughout most of the pandemic until they closed our division nearly two years ago.

Since then, I have been searching for my new thing. Attempting all the things including many new things, since the things I am capable of doing translate to so many other things. Yes – it is a lot of things – so many, including eight years of cancer caregiving experience. So on top of all those things, I’m also an unlicensed medical professional. Though I don’t like to brag.

I reach out to people I know, and I consistently send cover letters and resumes on all the current job seeking platforms. Unfortunately I either get an automated response saying “Good Luck!” from a robot, or it ends up in some kind of internet void. I have a feeling many of these job listings are just posted to mine for personal information. It is frustrating to say the least.

My dear friend said, “If they knew you, they would hire you. You’re sharp, skilled, capable, funny, responsible, and a joy to be around.” I sometimes add that I also remain calm in a crisis.

The wildness of the world itself, the pandemic, the writers’ and actors’ strike, time… all these things have really changed the landscape. So many of the people I know (with and without awards) are pivoting and confused and for lack of a better term, “dying on the vine”. That’s how I see it sometimes. Realistically speaking, I cannot hold my chin all the way upward every moment of every day (especially when texting … and that posture can’t be good).

Things as I once knew feel different because they are.

In the midst of turning over all the stones to leave none unturned, I have to remind myself every day that it is going to be ok. Even if a large grocery store chain doesn’t want my amazing skillset, I cannot take it personally. What is meant for me will not be missed. Somebody somewhere will surely need a compassionate helper and doer.

If you are going through something similar, I want to say, you are not alone. You have unique talents and are probably a joy to be around and what is meant for you will not be missed.

Perhaps we will even work together someday. That would be righteous.